“Go and propose it to the President of the United States,” cried J. T. Maston, “and see how he will receive you.”
“Bah!” growled Bilsby between the four teeth which the war had left him; “that will never do!”
“By Jove!” cried J. T. Maston, “he mustn’t count on my vote at the next election!”
“Nor on ours,” replied unanimously all the bellicose invalids.
“Meanwhile,” replied J. T. Maston, “allow me to say that, if I cannot get an opportunity to try my new mortars on a real field of battle, I shall say good-by to the members of the Gun Club, and go and bury myself in the prairies of Arkansas!”
“In that case we will accompany you,” cried the others.
Matters were in this unfortunate condition, and the club was threatened with approaching dissolution, when an unexpected circumstance occurred to prevent so deplorable a catastrophe.
On the morrow after this conversation every member of the association received a sealed circular couched in the following terms:
BALTIMORE, October 3. The president of the Gun Club has the honor to inform his colleagues that, at the meeting of the 5th instant, he will bring before them a communication of an extremely interesting nature. He requests, therefore, that they will make it convenient to attend in accordance with the present invitation. Very cordially, IMPEY BARBICANE, P.G.C.